


Ella

by jetblackmirror (orphan_account)



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/M, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-24
Updated: 2007-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-16 02:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jetblackmirror
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He brings her flowers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ella

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [WTF?](http://community.livejournal.com/mychemicaltest/85529.html#cutid1) challenge over at [mychemicaltest](http://www.livejournal.com/users/mychemicaltest/) using the prompt Gender Swap.
> 
> gen·der swap by some method, the character transforms into the gender opposite his or hers. [[wtf27](http://www.livejournal.com/users/wtf27/)]  
> trans·for·ma·tion change in form, appearance, nature, or character. [Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)]

"I am my own woman."  
\- Eva Perón

 

The flowers on the table are nice, he thinks. Lilacs. He found a bush that was more like a tree in full bloom on the way and he couldn't help but steal a few clusters. He wonders if she'll like them. If the color will be the right shade of purple to match that crinkly violet skirt she likes to wear. Maybe she'll be wearing it today and he can smile at her and snap part of the blossoms off the stem and tuck it behind one of her ears. Or place the tiny individual flowers in her hair, near one of those little barrettes she likes so much. Maybe she'll be wearing those too.

"I'll be out in two seconds."

Bob doesn't answer because he knows that she knows that he hears her. The unfamiliar comforter is a little rough behind his sun-burnt neck and he shifts, turning to the right and focusing his eyes on the bit of bright light peaking from beneath the bathroom door. This is his favorite part. The waiting. Back before, when they were just starting out, she used to leave the door open for him, let him sit on the toilet lid or the edge of the bathtub and watch her. Watch her pull her hair back with two little clips so the roundness of her cheeks was more noticeable. Watch her gently wash away the dirt and the grime from her face and the kohl still caked in the corners of her eyes. Watch her tuck and primp and fuss over herself until her hair shone silky and soft and her eyebrows were thinned and her makeup was light and flattering and her posture was more natural and easier to hold.

He had still been learning back then, still trying to understand. Now he liked the restored mystery. Liked waiting on the bed for her to emerge. Watch her take a few hesitant steps from the bathroom. Her hands folded in front and her head slightly bowed. Slightly tilted so that her hair - long again - brushed the collar of her blouse. Watch as her steps become more confident until she practically skips over to the bed and he catches her lithe frame in his welcoming arms.

The bathroom door opens, bright light spilling across the dimly lit and lightly shadowed floor. Bob feels a slow smile tug warmly at his lips, and he sits up, setting his slipper-clad feet down on the floor. She's wearing the skirt but he can't even think about flowers right now, not with her putting everything else lovely to shame.

"Do you like the blouse?"

Her voice is soft as she brushes her hands down the front of her skirt. Alabaster smoothing lavender. She clears her throat, a soft gesture like she has a tickle, and all Bob can do is smile his encouraging smile, not even noticing the subtle shift anymore as she starts again.

"It's... It's new."

Bob figures that this time he's going to have to go to her and so he stands, making easy work of the short distance between them. His hands are at her sides, thumbs rubbing lightly at the soft leather of the thin white belt circling her waist, making her thin hips slightly more defined.

He brushes noses with her, laughing no louder than a breath. He kisses her cheek, and smirks as she giggles and rests a hand against his chest to play at pushing him away, her rose-dusted cheek tickled by his beard. He can't help but stare at her eyes, the way they shine gold in the dull light. Bob's wide hands slide along her waist to the small of her back. He draws one away slowly and then guides her to the bed, letting her sit first and make herself comfortable. Legs folded neatly beneath her so that the skirt circles her like the blanket under a Christmas evergreen.

"I didn't do my nails."

She's looking at her hands, her nose crinkling slightly, her lips forming a pretty little pout that Bob wants to kiss away. And he isn't thinking about her nails as he sits beside her, takes her hands and kisses each knuckle. He's thinking, as always, about Ray and how concerned he is for them. _You sure you can handle hiding, I mean, don't you want to, like, go out and stuff?_ About Frank and how he doesn't understand. _He should be proud of who he is, he doesn't have to be a chick to fuck you._

"I told Mikey. He was mad. That I didn't tell him sooner."

His eyes meet hers and he gives her hand a little nervous squeeze.

"He said," a little sniff and her teeth press against a lightly painted lip. "He said I shouldn't hide."

Bob slides a hand over her back and shifts them, guiding her down gently until her cheek rests against the pillow. And he's facing her and holding her and looking into her eyes again and it's perfect and warm and good.

"I don't want to be famous."

His hand between her shoulders draws her a little closer. Their lips meet and they kiss. Little brushes at first that turn lingering. Lips parting and it's slow and soft and he can feel each little sigh she makes tickle at the hairs on his skin. Her hand gliding up to brush her fingertips against his beard. They press closer and he wraps one strong leg around her hips and it's intimate but not needy. They probably won't go much further tonight and it's alright because this is all they need and all they want and nothing else matters.

And when the kiss breaks and she presses her nose against his neck he knows that she's crying a little because of the wetness against his skin. He holds her a little tighter and kisses her hair that smells like lilac and whispers the first words he always says to her.

"Hello Rune."


End file.
